Smiles of Wealth
by Falling-Pixie
Summary: A classic story about a young girl struggling to gain respect from her parents. Emma has grown up in wealth and with an arranged marriage to a political man, her parents are only too happy to have her continue living in luxury. "He's into politics and has money. That's what's important. Don't you want to continue living life like we always have?"


_I wrote this story for a class final. Got an A! It actually steams from a movie/story my friend and I are making, which is why I have it labeled in misc. movies category. In my movie/story, the main characters are elves. It's a fantasy. This story, however, is set in modern times. This is the first time I've written something like this in this style. Hope you enjoy! Critique to your heart's content! It only makes it stronger.  
Falling-Pixie_

**Smiles of Wealth**

The whole family knew that when they had company coming over, no one was to bother mother. She was in her own world and in charge. Emma could only hope her mother wouldn't pull her into that world. Her sister, Elizabeth loved to be pulled beside her mother. Sometimes that was enough help, that Emma never had to step foot in the kitchen or dining hall. Unfortunately her hope was cut short when she heard her mother calling from the kitchen. Her tone was dripping with sweetness and stress. "Emma! Could you wash up and start cutting the vegetables for me, please?"

Emma sat silent. She resented her parents for their decision and had been giving them the silent treatment. Throughout her life she was told she would have to be married to whoever her parents would choose. It was always talked about like an idea or even family story. Her father had been a political figure and she had grown up in wealth. They owned a bright red Lamborghini and a chilled silver Rolls Royce. Over the years they had owned several large estates and hired help to come with them all. Emma was use to fancy dinner parties where her mother forced her to wear tight dresses and heavy make-up. She knew how to fraternize with the wealthy and talk about nothing of significant importance. Her mother often would set her up with young rich boys for the fun of it. It was a fantasy and a game. Despite her history, no party her parents had hosted would prepare her for the one her mother was having tonight. The money she had grown up with had been dwindling over the years and the arranged marriage she had heard about when she was younger was every growing prominent.

"We want the best for you." Her mother sat with her hands folded firmly on her lap, her lips pursed. "We want the best for all of us, darling." Her father added. He looked solemn and, as usual, his face had no emotion. Emma frowned. Her parents had taken her to the sitting room to tell her the big news. Emma had gotten up and was pacing back and forth. "You want what's best for you. Not me. You don't even care that the guy you've chosen is a complete jerk." Emma knew why they had chosen him. Vincent Newell excelled at everything he did. His father was about to retire and he would be taking his place. Vincent would be the man of the family after his father retired and would be the source of great income for the family. The Newell family was in it only for the money and the thrill of gaining that money. She could recall the countless times Vincent had run for class president during high school. He won almost every time and the year he didn't he had been out of the country for most of that year. He had also been a heart throb to all the numb brained girls in her school. Emma, on the other hand, didn't see anything becoming about him at all. It was true he was intelligent, but he knew it and flaunted it profusely. All his high achievements were gold stars in her parents' eyes. Looking at her mother she saw her frown. "Emma, Vincent is a fine young man and you should be proud of how lucky you are." Her father pointed his hand and took on a strong tone. "He's into politics and has money. That's what's important. Don't you want to continue living life like we always have?"

Her parents were fools. She had no respect for her mother and little for her father. There were countless times when she was younger that she would want to play a challenging card game with her mother and her mother would only push her to play something simple. "That game is silly and isn't very fun at all. Why don't we play something fun, like a bored game?" At first, Emma would beg her to play the one she wanted, but later would drop asking her completely. Her mother never wanted to think or do anything that was outside the box. Everything had to be centered on being simplistic; black and white. Her father liked a challenge but didn't see it fit that Emma enjoyed a challenge as well. He was set on his ways of thinking and even a rebellious daughter wouldn't change that. He was stubborn and her mother would always tell her "You know, that's where you get it from." Their way of thinking and wealth that surrounded them blinded them to anything different; especially a life with less. They were so use to life in the light they couldn't even begin to imagine it in any shade darker than their current state. The past couple years as their money had dwindled they had to get rid of the hired help. That meant more work for Emma and her sister. It was a joy for her sister. Elizabeth looked up to her mother and followed her like the favorite child would. Elizabeth followed everything their parents would tell her and she thrived on the wealth of their family. Even with their money dwindling, she would spend every week shopping for clothes and their mother would always encourage it. Both her parents were proud of Elizabeth and the way she had turned out. They constantly asked Emma why she couldn't be a good daughter and be like her sister.

After several minutes of not hearing an answer, her mother peered from around the corner. "Emma. Wash your hands and help me. Now." Emma inwardly rolled her eyes and reluctantly got up to go in the kitchen. Her sister was glowing as she poured the steaming pasta in the sink. There was a barrier of herbs and spices that coated the air from the kitchen door. The smells were tantalizing but the thought of what it they meant made her stomach churn. Her mother forced a smile as Emma began picking up a bag of squash. "Thank you, dear." She looked at her sister's beaming face and let herself twitch a smile. Once the table had been set, food prepared, and house straitened, all there was left was the guest of honor. This was the most excruciating part; waiting. Waiting for her fiancé to arrive; waiting for the high horse pompous she'd known and avoided through her high school years; waiting for her life to be constrained of all freedom. Emma could feel her muscles tighten as she watched the clock. Vincent had a habit of being a few minutes late or as he would say, "Being a politician, I'm on time". Emma rubbed her thumb over her palm as she waited. The skin had turned pale from the excessive contact. After several minutes past their scheduled time, like clockwork, the chimes of the doorbell rang out though the hallowed halls of her house. Once invited in Vincent walked with a stride of confidence. In her dads eyes she could see him mentally take note of this. His dark brown hair was styled with so much gel, she was sure it was like pine needles. It was most likely done by professionals or hired help in his house. She cringed at the thought of having to touch it. Vincent greeted her father with a firm handshake and the ladies of the family with a respectful peck on the hand. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He had magnificent bone structure in his cheeks that matched his thin but strong body type. When he had bent over to kiss her sisters hand, she could see Elizabeth almost swoon. Emma held herself firm and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Vincent noticed the small reaction from her sister and she could see the swell in his ego. "Good evening, soon to be family of mine." His smile brought everyone else in the room to smile. Emma smiled along with them, but only for purposes of blending in.

Emma had to force her smile throughout the dinner and make it look natural. Her cheeks were burning and sore. It was the toughest dinner she ever had to sit through. The mingling that happened after the dinner, however, was much worse. They had all retired to the sitting room for desserts and coffee. Elizabeth was eagerly present the entire time. She was enamored with Vincent and the high society mingling. Emma became bored very quickly. Vincent and her parents got along effortlessly. They had all been brought up in the height of society and knew how to handle one another. They mostly told stories, some of Emma, some about the family. Vincent had them wrapped in a story about his high school days with Emma. She snorted. She had experienced very little of high school with him, and he knew it. That never stopped his ego. The night continued into countless rambling about society's problems. Crud jokes were told about the less fortunate and even some about sexual politicians the men had encountered. They all told stories of great fortune for themselves and the troubled life of everyone else. People who were much less privileged were usually the foundation of the majority of their conversations. It eventually developed to the wedding that was to occur in the morning. Vincent was quite thrilled. She knew all he was thrilled about was the press that would be covering the ceremony. The media loved Vincent, and the feeling was mutual. She knew that she would have to get use to that. The more she began thinking about it and listening to them converse, the more panic began to crawl slowly into her mind. She would have to endure more parties, tight dresses, and fake smiles to artificial people. Her thoughts began racing. Emma was going to have to suffer through a continuation of her life previously, only ten times worse. Vincent and his family were much higher on the social scale and she would be expected of so much, being the wife of a high society politician. Emma felt her breath being taken by fear. Her chest felt tight and she looked around, almost wide eyed. No one was noticing the strain on her face. They were enamored with Vincent's charm. The way they looked at him, the way they smiled at her when she was mentioned, they couldn't see her fear. Either they couldn't or wouldn't. She knew her parents were prone to ignore problems that arose, including a rebellious daughter that never learned to shut her lip.

Emma had tried countless times to convince her parents she didn't need a husband just yet. They would only fuss at her and dismiss her comments. "You don't know what you're talking about." Her father had said. He kept his newspaper in front of his face and paid no attention to her. "You're too young and irresponsible to know what you need." Emma crossed her arms and pursed her lips. "But I'm old enough to marry." Her father's eyes peered over top of the paper for a moment. "You don't need brains to marry." Emma turned to walk away and mumbled. "Obviously." Her father scowled without looking up. "Shut that lip." Emma resented the fact that her parents could openly insult her while she was only told to sit quietly and let it happen. She never sat quietly. Her mother had countless times insulted her body, calling her chunky and disproportionate. Emma didn't care all that much about the way she looked but it hurts anyone's ego to insult their weight. Her mother was fussing over how she wouldn't be able to fit in her wedding dress. Emma didn't fit to her mother's perfect standards. "I think it's a sign, mom." Emma watched her mother poke and prod at her dress while it almost suffocated her. "It's telling you that I'm not ready to marry anyone yet." Her mother batted at her. "Oh shush. Everyone expects you and Vincent to get married, and you wouldn't want to disappoint them now, would you?" Emma crossed her arms, the tone of her voice pushing on sarcasm. "You know, I don't think I'd mind that much." Her mother continued to ignore her while prodding at the dress.

Emma's parents had always ignored her, especially after Elizabeth had been born. She wished that it could have been her sister instead who had to marry Vincent. She was sure her sister would be absolutely thrilled at the thought. If she was out of the picture, Elizabeth would surely be the one to marry Vincent. It made sense to Emma, she wouldn't have to marry anyone, Elizabeth would get her dream guy, and the family would still receive the money they so desired. If Emma was out of the picture. If Emma was gone. Gone. Perhaps she could just leave. She looked at her family and saw the laughter and smiles of wealth. Whether or not the smiles were genuine, they seemed to enjoy what wealth brought them. Her family always ignored anything Emma did anyway. She was sure they wouldn't miss her all that much. Then there was Vincent, her arranged fiancé. She doubted he'd miss her at all. Emma wasn't his type. What he needed was a girl who would follow in his shadow and accept the title of the little wife of a politician. Emma looked at her sister, giggling at every word Vincent would say. She idolized him and the wealth he brought. Emma knew her sister would be taken care of if she left. She was the baby of the family, after all. Leaving. Emma got up and walked to the gold trimmed window, gazing down the driveway. If she took one of the cars, they would notice too quickly, plus she wasn't sure how she could sneak by with getting the car keys. She would have to walk. It wouldn't be all that bad. They lived in the city and she could just take a cab or something. Walking wasn't too much of an issue to her anyway. It was the money. Emma chuckled at the irony. What she was trying to get away from would follow her where ever she went. Emma had her own bank account but she knew her parents could pull that at any time. She could find a small job somewhere, perhaps even out of the city so she could at least be far enough away from her family. Everything was coming together in her mind. Leave the city, get a small job to sustain herself, and see where she could go from there. Being free, life could take her in any direction she wanted. Life with no rules was beginning to become very alluring. Turning around, Emma joined into the conversation her family was having with Vincent. Her family was her family, but it wasn't any way she wanted to continue living. She would leave them a note that night and, with no house maids wondering about, would slip out of the house with ease.


End file.
